seperate
by fallened
Summary: She seduces men and then kills them for their trouble. Its just who she is. But for twelve years Rinoa has dreamt of a clock, and its counting down to something. What is coming for Rinoa?
1. sandman

I can't be losing sleep  
  
over this, no I can't  
  
and now I cannot stop pacing  
  
give me a few hours  
  
I'll have this all sorted out  
  
if my mind would just stop racing  
  
somewhere in between- lifehouse  
  
Sandman  
  
The dream always begins with a train station. Either at the turnstile or the platform and sometimes even on the train itself. I'm either sitting or standing but it doesn't matter which. I'm always waiting. For someone or some thing . I don't know yet.  
  
At least not for the few moments when the wind blows around me and my hair is at its mercy. I stay still, with my fist wrapped tight around a ring that is attached to a long silver chain.  
  
When the wind dies down, the chime from a clock reaches my ears. The train starts to move and I see my self inside as it draws away; I look out the window and watch my own reproachful face stare back from the platform.  
  
I count the chimes. It's been counting down form twelve since I was fifteen. Tomorrow I am twenty-six. What happens after the last chime?  
  
%%%%%%%%%  
  
She gasps, her eyes fly open and she sits up. Instinctively she reaches for the necklace that was around her neck but is not anymore. Stilling her racing heart, she stands and hardly winces when her foot touches the cold hardwood floor. Outside the sound of heavy rain drowns out her rapid heartbeat.  
  
She shivers and moves towards the window seat with its soft cushion and velvet pillows.  
  
Rain drops chase each other down the glass pane, blurring her view of the world outside. The woman wraps the afghan over her shoulders, her mind already replaying her memory of that dream.  
  
She saw herself as she had so many times before standing at her seat and count the number of chimes the clock makes. She would then turn to the window and launch herself at it. The impact shatters the glass and shards of it fly in all directions but none can touch her and she soars out, her eyes closed in peace.  
  
She opens her eyes, and watched the edge of a cliff move further away as she falls. She can feel the wind in her hair, through her fingers, her arms wrapped loosely around herself. The metal chain holding her ring is cold on her neck. Her eyes close again and she lets herself fall.  
  
She knows at the last moment she can stop it; she can open her wings to bring herself up. But she can't, her arms lie adamantly across her chest and refuse to spread. In panic she snaps open her eyes and all she can see is a pair of blue eyes. Their clarity and brightness blinded her, the cold expression in the aquamarine depths froze her heart.  
  
She would wake up then.  
  
Shaking herself out of her reverie, the woman sighs and rubs a hand over her tired eyes trying futilely to get the image of her dream to disappear. She continues to watch the rain. She had always hated it, especially tonight. The rain would weigh her down, clog her feathers.  
  
Tonight, Rinoa Heartilly wanted nothing more than to fly. 


	2. identity

Identity  
  
In life you learn one basic thing; there is no end. People die, babies are born and mistakes are made all the time. You live with regret, alone or just simply miserable. The only final end is when you die and you pray that one the other side you won't be able to remember a thing of this life. Too depressing? Welcome to the psyche of Rinoa Heartily.  
  
She moved to the rooftop when the sun begun to rise. It was still raining then as it was now and numbingly cold but she hardly felt it. A lonely figure atop a ten-story apartment block and shrouded by the heavy downpour, she gazed down at the streets of Deling. Below, life went on as usual, nearly everyone walking those streets or cursing in their cars on the congested roads had a purpose that was their own no matter how small. Those people had an important place they had to go.  
  
And what about my life? Rinoa wondered. For the past nine years all she had known was purpose and regret. Her existence was brutal and raw; she lived day to day in a shell. The world didn't know her and all she knew was ravenous hunger and lust.  
  
Rinoa Heartilly, such secrets she hides in her beautiful porcelain face. Holding out her hand she allows rain water collect in the palm before abruptly splaying her fingers causing the clear water to spill. Fascinated, she watches rain droplets collect at the tips of her nails, hanging there till they got too heavy and fell. Just like me, she thought. I wanted so much to remember, I thought aggression was the key and I broke under it. I went ballistic. And still I do not remember anything. She tilts her head back and spreads her arms, just like she had in her dream.  
  
On the ground, far below another looks up. Dark blue eyes stares, instinctive and hard as ice. She was a beautiful woman. You wouldn't think she was a killer now would you? Not with that milky skin and perfect seductress blond hair. With a black umbrella in hand, she held her gaze, while around her people jostled past, taking care to not come too close. Everything about this woman was artic, even a cold draft seemed to hang around her frame like a heavy cloak. Turning she made her way to the building's entrance, as she strode past him, the doorman shivered.  
  
Rinoa, Rinoa. Such secrets you hide. Even from yourself.  
  
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%  
  
Siren (noun) Greek Mythology. One of a group of sea nymphs (with heads of women and bodies of birds) who by their sweet singing lured mariners to destruction on the rocks surrounding their island.  
  
Siren A woman regarded as seductive and beautiful.  
  
You know, when they say that a siren is seductive and beautiful, they left out one important word. Dangerous.  
  
I made my way down the wooden staircase, ending my long vigil on the roof. All I'm wearing is a sodden gown that is clinging embarrassingly to my every curve. How stupid am I to out in the rain like that. Do people really grow older with age? I am still the same fool on January 19th, two weeks ago. Still the same fool who may just given the police the evidence they need to lead them to us. I opened the door to my apartment, cold and even more miserable than when I had gone up. I thought that the cold air would help me get my sanity in check. I went straight to the bathroom, stripping myself quickly and turning on the shower. I'm already shivering violently as I step in  
  
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%.  
  
Rinoa didn't hear the front door opening, she sure didn't hear the click of its lock and the turning of the big brass knob. A figure stepped in fearlessly and surveyed its surrounding of wood and warm colors with extreme distaste as it shut the door behind it. The clicks of heavy boots continued to be unheard by the unsuspecting woman in the shower. Rinsing the shampoo out of her slowly, Rinoa hummed to herself and tried to let the heat of the water seep into her soul. She felt so bitter inside, why couldn't have a normal life? Make her a pretentious high-class bitch, a workaholic or a farmer. Why did God have to make her this? Why is she a murderer?  
  
The shower curtains snapped apart and Rinoa turned, a sharp scream lodged in her throat. She covered her mouth abruptly when she saw who it was. Quistis watched her calmly, unperturbed by the fact that Rinoa was standing before her completely naked.  
  
"Get dressed", she snapped, tossing Rinoa a towel.  
  
Fifteen minutes later the pair sat stiffly opposite each other on the sofas. The silence between them thick and strain as it always was. Rinoa was hanging her head shamefully, studying the patterns of her jeans with avid interest. Guilt was eating through her as Quistis's presence brought all that had happened that night to the surface.  
  
"Quis-", "Rinoa don't, I'm still furious about what had happened. Do you know how hard RuiEn, Selphie and I are trying to clean up the mess you made?" This made Rinoa feel even worse and she fought back the tears that were threatening to erupt from her. But crying is unacceptable. It's a weakness that Quistis refuses to even acknowledge. She gripped her knees hard as she whispered," Have you found my ring?" "No."  
  
Rinoa heard the rustle of leather as Quistis got to her feet and she quickly stood to be washed over with the coldness of her sister's eyes. Breaking contact, Quistis reached into her pocket to take out a black velvet ring box. Without looking at Rinoa, she pushed it into the brunette's warm hands. Rinoa turned it over her hands till curiosity got the better of her and she pried it open. A platinum ring sat inside the box. The ring was engraved with the image of a phoenix, a wing half covering its long neck and most of the platinum surface. A small ruby set eye glowered the firebird's challenge.  
  
Puzzled, Rinoa looked up to find that Quistis was already at the door. Her sister still had her back faced to Rinoa as she said chillingly. "Your mother wanted me to give this to you on your twenty-seventh birthday and I've fulfilled it. Regardless of what she had done. History is repeating itself Rinoa Heartilly. Why are you and orphan? Remember that answer Rinoa and watch your actions. Because if the SeeD's the police have hired find us, don't hope I'll think twice about turning you in. I love you but I did not live this long to be brought down by an incomplete siren!"  
  
The door slammed shut, and crumbling to her knees Rinoa sobbed despairingly. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking her body back and forth, cradling her broken pride. A knife of pain slid through her heart and crying harder she gripped the ring hard.  
  
If there are two things you can learn in life it is that life goes on when you feel like shit and that you are usually alone to live through the worst of it.  
  
Author's notes: Hi to whoever reads this story, I'm sorry it took me so long to update but I had to concentrate on my exams. Anyway I know this still is kinda different form the last chapter and long winded and I hoped you enjoyed it. Please send me some feedback so I can improve myself. Cya.. fallened 


	3. strangers

Strangers

Catch your breath

Hit the wall

Scream out loud as you start to crawl

Back in your cage

The only place

Where they will leave you alone

'Cause the weak will seek the weaker till they've broken down

Could you get it back again

would it be the same

Fulfillment to their lack of strength at your expense

Left you with no defense

They tore it down

simon-lifehouse

**Seperate (strangers)**

Who are you?

His pale long fingers curl harshly around the sink.Glaring at that man.The man with the icy blue gray eyes,peircing and clear with nothing to hide.

What a lie.

Nothing is innocent about him, the one with the perfectly beautiful face.

Just a face then, the man in the mirror is not reality.

He did not need to live day to day, with thousands of others depending on him. Needing him.

To solve their problems, to kill it rather and if wasn't too much trouble personally protect their rich arses too. Failing that, if he can't do it himself why not send one of the children he had to watch grow up and train risk their lives for the almighty dollar.

No, Mirror Boy didn't have to make those kind of decisons every freaking day.

Who was he now anyway?

"Commander", a knock on the door.

The fingers clench harder, he take a breath, glances once more at his reflection. Squall Leonhart, Commander of Balamb Garden and top SeeD agent gazes back at him in disgust.

Back to work.

You wanted me sir?

Ah yes Squall, take a seat. I have a new case for you. Here's the file.

Murder?

Your favourite.

Where?

Deling. Pick out a team of two and prepare to leave by 0700 by tomorrow.

Leave?

Yes, Commander. You need a break. And after that... incident. I believe that a murder investigation will be like a holiday for you. Besides of which, this case is somewhat perculiar.i want you to handle this one personally.

What about Galbadia? Shouldn't they be handling this?

Squall i will only say this once. Screw them.

I take it Galbadia refused to touch this case.

Run along now Squall.

"heggo"

"Dincht., Get up, wash your face and brush your Goddamned teeth 'cause your breath stinks., Wake Kinneas and meet me at my office in two hours. We'll be leaving for Deling in two and a half. If your late. Your dead."

With a click, the caller disconnected, leaving the receiver to stare at his cordless dumbfounded. Groggy, he glanced back at his bed inviting bed.

With the shrill of a strangled siren the phone began ringing once more.

"Lo".

"I mean it Zell. Get the fuck up."

I don't remember what happened when it happened. It's like this everytime, It it as if i wasn't even there. i was a passenger to my own body and someone else was controlling it

,And all i'm left with now is an empty space. Everytime, Each time i lose control i can't recall a thing, all i remember is the pain and hunger before, the pitch black of cold that drowns me.once my grip is lost and the bitch is loose.

_She was starving, so hungry she's become delirious with want. Her stomach knawed at her psyche, the craving so presistent,so demanding she thought she'd claw her sides out and rip her skin to get rid of it.Had to get it. Had to go hunting. To pick some meat, chase it, enjoy the kill.But NO.Sister wouldn't like that. Sister says she can't do it. Too young. Too young. Sister said she'd do it wrong.Sister who isn't here. Not here now is she? Sister left. Sister doesn't care. So hungry. No, don't care, no worries no. Hurry hurry.Sister doesn't matter, not now. And reason won't get through either. Only the angry growls of a desperate hunger, of a repressed space in her soul. What was it like, to change oneself completely? To fly in her true form, and change and hurt. Feeling real feathers on her body. Their hiding now, but their right there, just beneath the skin. yes, tonight she will do it. Go get a beautiful dress, the red one, with the low front and even lower back. Its irresistable. How exciting Rinoa, your first hunt. We know, we know you're hungry. No more waiting. She pranced to the front door, her feet in stilettos, eager like any naive fool. Practically shuddering. She enters the first club she finds, breathing the air delicately through her cute button nose Rinoa smiles at the scent of so many pretty young things. But their not what she's looking for And finally she finds him. Over there, he's perfect. Married, and devoted. A good heart, a perfect circle, he'll try to resist, prevent action, remember his loving wife. how sweet it will be, to chew on that._

_What is your name? she whispers. Blowing seductively, circling like a vulture around his seated person, Teasing him, and he wants to ignore her, Of course he cannot, because Rinoa is too beautiful and the poor man is already drowing in her smell. Tell her your name. You want that, to hear that voice whisper it, play with it in her mouth, testing the sound of it on her tongue, roll it aroundd on her teeth like a sweet. Go ahead married man, tell her your name, tell this beautiful young woman who wants you, your name. Scream it even..._

_"Lunan. Lunan Charles"_

...you will be screaming soon enough anyway.

"The presidential candidate?", Zell questioned, eyeing the autopsy photos in a perplexed pashion. His commander nodded, his face a perfect blank.

It would be prudent perhaps to point out at present that Zell Dincht and Ivrine Kinneas actually like their commander. He wasn't charismatic, nay even talkative and at times the guy could be a downright bastard, but they didn't dislike him, there was nothing obvious to dislike. He was their leader, it is because of him and his decisions that both were still alive and in one piece. They knew Squall. He was smart, silent, serious and smoked like a chimney. Occasionally when you aren't paying close attention he'd look amused, close to smilling.

He sat opposite them now,inside the rather luxurious SeeD cart on a train bound for Deling. He kept his eyes locked to the window and the world outside, thinking deeply as usual.

He dwelled on the file and its contents while Zell and Ivrine studied it, their faces becoming more and more dumbfounded as each page was turned. They had the right to be perplexed, not so because Charles was murdered. The man was a politician after all, there were plenty of people who wanted him dead regardless of how clean living the man appeared to be. However, the act of his murder itself, now that had plenty of details for a person to be confused over.

Charles had no torso, nothing solid anyway, just ashed remains at the place where his chest and stomach should be. Everything else, head, arms, pelvis, legs were still intact and practically pristine. Spread out like a pair of grotesque wings were his arms,his head tilted down in the direction of his body, or lack thereof. But aside from the fact, Lunan Charles looked like a grotesque parody of Christ on the cross, that was just the only way to describe the body.

"It seems almost sacrificial", Ivrine commented, reading Squall's thoughts. Yes, it did but Charles had lain on that bed willingly, no signs of struggle not even his hands were bound. Then again he could have had a gun to his head.

But his posture, the man's Goddamned head was propped up on the thick, fluffy hotel pillows comfortably.

The obvious conclusion would be that Charles was seduced. A woman after all would always be a man's greatest weakness. Sure Charles had the reputation of being the most lovesick and devoted husband in political history, it was one of the media's greatest missons to find any, even the smallest crack in the man's marriage. Half of the media at any rate, the other half makes use of the couple's soulmate status to sell magazines and books on love horoscopes, spells, potions and whatnot.

That aside, what kind weapon could have caused that kind of damage? Even someone with extensive knowledge of explosives and arson would have found it impossible to burn Charles with that much precison. And so far the investigation reports held no mention of any chemical trace. The coroner's report held even less clues. The death was quick, the fire that most probably killed him lasted only long enough to do its job. There were no smoke stains on the wall. And with the torso missing there wasn't much the coroner could write except for three scratch marks over the left shoulder. DNA matches are still being run.

"He seems almost….happy. You know the secret happiness you feel when you've made someone else happy", Zell said. Ivrine craned his neck and shook his head, "Nah, he looks out of his mind, completely insane". The commander turned and noted a picture the martial artist was holding. It was a close up of Charles middle-aged still handsome face.

It confirmed what Squall had been thinking. Charles had been terrifed of his killer or one of his killers, but despite that, whoever that person was, Lunan Charles had been utterly, completely, deeply in love with that person.

A lot of loose ends and questions to be answered. And every thought that came to Squall's mind was incomplete with missing pieces. He didn't know much about Deling politics to come up with any suitable suspects, nor did he have much experience investigating organized crimes or crimes of passion. He was a commander of mercernaries and was more used to dealing with war. He felt way out of his depth and just a tad insecure about this investigation.

Was that why had Cid assigned this to him?

The constant and irritating ringing of the telephone is part and parcel of Selphie or Detective Selphie Tilmitt's life. A detective in Deling this lifetime, a judge the last, even a witch hunter in the 1600's. Always close to the law, always there to clean up the messes. But not this time.

Any other day, Selphie enjoyed playing investigation. But not today. Especially not November Tenth when she was the person to pick up the call from the head of the SeeD investigation. The team had arrived and other then feeling a little ticked off that another organisation was taking over her investigation, Selphie was terrified. She was afraid for many reasons but most of all of Quitis and what Quitis would do to Rinoa to protect their secret.

She took a glance at her desk, at the the file containing all of the information of the damage her sister had done. And the DNA trace that concluded that Charles was scratched nearly to the bone by something that was definitely female.

Biting her lip till the blood ran down her chin. She resisted the need to take every single sheet of paper on her desk.

And rip them all to shreds with her talons.

**Author's Notes: **Em, hi. I know this is a pretty pathetic update. Guess I needed the time to grow up and to find the proper words to write this story on. Anyway I promise to update mor often. At least more than once a year at any rate. Hope you guys will like what I'm coming up with. And regarding the last chapter. I know Quitis is a real meany but well…. Someone has to be the bitch. Lastly for general useless info Nov 10 is my birthday. Lol.


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